


Newton Artemis Fido Scamander

by necromancx



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Autistic Newt Scamander, Character Study, Gen, mind exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necromancx/pseuds/necromancx
Summary: He's easily misunderstood.





	Newton Artemis Fido Scamander

His mind is a lake.

Warmed by the sun while it’s high in the sky, dancing with light and the ripples of movement along its surface, fickle and never able to be captured fully in a picture of understatement. Chilling at night, a body of stillness only an exhale of breath away from a catastrophe. Deep and endless, unexplored, and eventually extending far into an ocean of mixed thought, unforgivingly heavy. Constantly on the verge of flooding him, drowning him completely in sounds and colours and touches too painful, too much for him to deal with. (Can you imagine what it’s like?)

 

His mind is a forest.

Overgrown, full with life, full of years spent living in authenticity, even if against somebody’s will, vast and easy to get lost in on dark days. Wild and untouched, unable to be contained, expanding beyond horizons with every breath, with every step. Not welcoming, no – dangerous, definitely. But reverently open to the brave ones. (Do you want to know me?)

 

His mind is a palette.

Strong and resilient to wear and tear, smeared with colours, scraped by knives and dented by falls. Too many times taken for granted, stained and spilled over, broken and fixed back together, fighting on to serve a purpose, to help, to help, to help, to offer a hand, to offer a consolation, to offer something of himself, to offer himself. Need help? (Could you help me?)

 

His mind is a candle.

Not so much the wax as the fire. Bright, bright, bright, so bright, so small, so resilient. Ready to burn with all its might all the way through, ready to shine like a beacon. Dancing, skittering. Not fearless – there are moments of quiet panic when his heart is beating out of his chest and the flame inside him is suffocating – but brave and fighting on. (What do you fight for?)

 

His mind is not a journal, it’s not a gallery, it’s not an exhibit – although he might feel like it on some particular days. Too odd to be ordinary, so they observe him instead, from a safe distance.

The truth is, he’s uncontainable, unknowable – not fully, anyways. They might think they know him, that they understand him; but while they are observing the cottage of his mind, he is out there, in the wilderness of himself, exploring, finding, building. Getting completely lost.

 

His mind is the case.

Forever expanding beyond where the eye sees, filled with too many things and not enough at the same time, bursting with life and colour and light, filling his every sense with the pleasantness of _home_. It’s the warmth of familiarity in a sea of cold uncertainty, a sanctuary for what he cares about. Impossibly vast in comparison of what the fresh eye initially sees, yet more homely than what he remembers of home. (Have you ever found home in a stranger?)

Newt Scamander is simple to understand and easy to misunderstand. To capture him truly, one mustn’t observe him, but move with him, one breath, one heartbeat at a time, be the helping hands, strong shoulders, eager ears. The only thing one needs: a pair of quick feet in sturdy boots, to match his pace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this short character portrait :)  
> I will appreciate all critique and/or advice, shall you have any.  
> (i can be reached over on my tumblr (axoctavian))


End file.
